In these highly politicized times, with
the campaigns using drone-like ads to attack our sensibilities, every
aspect of our private lives lies razed and dazed in the public sphere.
For communities targeted and demonized by smear tactics, there comes a
time for efforts aimed at redefinition or maybe that repositioning
occurs, not as a reaction to the blinding glare of the high-intensity
spotlight glare, but rather as a more natural evolution from within.

As Downtown Dayton LGBT prepares to
present its seventh annual film festival Friday-Sunday with screenings
at The Neon, I had one overarching question (with an obvious follow-up)
for festival director Jonathan McNeal. I wondered what the Dayton LGBT
community was looking for, in terms of representations, on the screen.
Earlier this year, the group sponsored a screening of Vito, which
was all about Vito Russo’s passion for acknowledging the diverse and
sometimes hidden reflections of gays and lesbians throughout film
history, a trigger for social and cultural liberation.

McNeal dove right in with a pointed and
straightforward reply. “I think the LGBT community is interested in
seeking honest representations on film. Though the gay, bitchy sidekick
might have been fun, I’m not sure that character helped us make any
social advancements. This year’s lineup is full of real people leading
real lives. That’s not to say that all the films are dramas, we
certainly have comedies, too ... but even they feel authentic.”

This year’s lineup definitely addresses
this new honest reality, this striving for a sense of urgent
authenticity, both through the films and the celebratory events.

Friday
night’s 7:30 p.m. opening feature Gayby, from writer-director
Jonathan Lisecki (who will be in attendance), delves into a safe
mainstream setup — two best friends from college, Jenn (Jenn Harris) and
Matt (Matthew Wilkas), now in their thirties who frantically
acknowledge the tic-toc of the biological clock and decide to procreate
the old-fashioned way. This, of course, is despite the fact that Matt
can’t quite seem to get over his ex-boyfriend. As careers and dating
complicate matters, the comedy here seems to have much more in common
with Jennifer Westfeldt’s Friends With Kids than The Object of My Affection, the 1998 Paul Rudd-Jennifer Aniston vehicle that felt much more sitcom-like in its execution.

An opening night after-party at The
Crowne Plaza (33 E. Fifth St., just a block away from The Neon) caps
things off with the usual appetizers, signature cocktails, music from DJ
Ruckus Roboticus and a video installation directed by Vivek Shraya
titled “What I Love About Being Queer.” As listed on the festival site,
the video explores this one burning question with “34 beautiful queers.”

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Saturday kicks off at 1 p.m. with the documentary How to Survive a Plague
from David France. At a time when young HIV-positive men were staring
mortality in the face, two coalitions emerged — ACT-UP and TAG
(Treatment Action Group) — spurred by a rag-tag collection of newbie
activists intent on raising awareness and fighting to mobilize the
scientific community to help transform AIDS from a death sentence to a
manageable condition. Like Vito, Plague drops audiences into the heat and passion of tumultuous times, offering glimpses at the tested heroes who would seize the day.

Live Free Or Die, another hot
button documentary selection, screens 1 p.m. Sunday bearing the weight
of its message about Gene Robinson, widely recognized as the first
openly gay bishop in Christian history, who during his consecration in
2003 had to wear a bullet-proof vest under his religious vestments and
continues to serve under constant threat. With his partner Mark in tow,
the film by Macky Alston tracks Robinson as he travels from “small-town
churches in the New Hampshire North Country to Washington’s Lincoln
Memorial to London’s Lambeth Palace, as he calls for all to stand for
equality — inspiring bishops, priests and ordinary folk to come out from
the shadows and change history.”

Authenticity is used as a coded
catchphrase, an attempt to wear a folksy patchwork jacket of mainstream
affiliation. Politicians and their campaigns stitch together garishly
obvious garb and parade around in front of the cameras like the cravenly
naked emperors in waiting that they are, but to hear McNeal talk about
the idea and then peruse the full schedule of titles for the festival is
to appreciate the lack of artifice in a community simply presenting and
embracing reflections of who they are.

The DOWNTOWN DAYTON LGBT FILM FESTIVAL runs Friday-Sunday. For full lineup of screenings and events: www.daytonlgbt.com.